Chapter 8 - The Strike at the Docks
The storm broke two days later.
At 2:00 AM, Dominic’s primary distribution warehouse at the Brooklyn Navy Yard—where millions of dollars of imported Italian goods, wines, and building materials were stored—was hit by a massive arson attack.
Dominic stood on the rain-slicked pavement, watching firefighters battle the towering flames that consumed the building. His jaw was set in stone, his eyes burning with lethal fury.
Marcus, his head of security, stepped up beside him. "It was Rosetti's men, boss. Vance paid off the harbor guards to cut the security cameras."
Dominic pulled out his phone, his voice cold as ice. "Find Vance. Find Rosetti. I want them brought to the estate by morning."
Before Dominic could step into his car, another SUV pulled up sharply. Penelope stepped out into the rain, wearing an oversized coat over her clothes, her face filled with deep, anxious concern.
"Dominic!" she called out, rushing over to him.
"Penelope? What are you doing here? It's dangerous!" Dominic said, stepping forward to shield her from the rain.
"I heard what happened on the news," she said, grabbing his wet jacket, looking into his dark, tortured eyes. "Victoria came to my office two days ago. She threatened to use Rosetti to destroy you."
Dominic’s eyes narrowed into terrifying slits. "She went to you?"
"Yes. She told me to leave you, or they would burn everything you built." Penelope pulled him close, pressing her forehead against his chest. "Don't let them win, Dominic. Don't let them turn you into a monster."
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Dominic wrapped his arms tightly around her, feeling her warmth against the freezing rain. His lethal fury softened, replaced by a profound, protective clarity.
"I won't turn into a monster, cara," Dominic whispered into her dark hair. "I'm going to finish this legally, permanently, and strip them of everything."
